Diaries of a Rebellious Storm Trooper
by HeatherOnTheHill
Summary: Star Wars as told from the point of view of a reluctant Storm Trooper who was pressed into the services of the Empire. Complete!
1. Flat Feet, Asthma, and Corellian Rum

**Disclaimer:** I don't have anything with _Star Wars_ or George Lucas or whatever else is intellectual property of his. I'm just an overly creative person that needs an outlet to write and well, this kind of came out.

**Background:** This idea came to me about 2 o'clock in the morning, but that's when I usually get all my best ideas for stories. I guess that's when my muse feels inclined to bless me with her presence. Does anyone know where I can get a new muse? :-D Anyway, this is just Star Wars told from the point of view of a Storm Trooper who was unwillingly pressed into service. It's based on some historical truth. In the 18th and 19th centuries the English Navy would get young men drunk and then they'd wake up on the ship of an English frigate, having been "drafted" into the services of the King. Sometimes they were just forced aboard. It's called being "pressed" into service. This same idea applies to the Empire in this story. Rated PG for mild language and violence.

Please RR as this is my first fic. Thanks!

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Chapter One: Flat Feet, Asthma, and Corellian Rum

Dear Diary,

I am bored as hell of having no one to talk to so decided to keep a diary. At least this is someplace where I can jot down my thoughts without being ridiculed by my associates.

Guess what?! The planet's been taken over by the Empire! And if that's not bad enough they've slapped recruitment posters up all over the place promising everything from sign-up bonuses, to girls, to the joy of killing the "Rebel Scum", as they call it. The problem is that no one is signing up and even I'm not dumb enough to fall for the lack of the Empire's line of expendable soldiers. I have much more important things to do, like finish my degree in Quantum Cellular Microastronomy.

Must dash as I am attending lecture tonight on String Theory vs. Theoretical Reverse Mechanics. Ms. Physics herself, Dr. Sinclair, is giving the lecture. She is so hot!

Dear Diary,

No one has signed up for the Imperial Army and so the Empire, in its infinite wisdom, has decided to institute a draft. As my luck would have it, my number got called up. I had no choice but to show up at the Imperial Induction Center this morning for a physical and an intelligence test. I wasn't worried, though, because with my flat feet and asthma I knew they weren't going to take me. I also failed the intelligence test (I scored too high and was deemed too intelligent for the Storm Troopers). Well, what do you expect when the questions go like this: "Please choose a species to shoot at blindly with your blaster: A. Jawa B. Twi'lek C. Wookie D. All of the above"? Double-negative.

On the other hand, Dr. Sinclair declined my request for tutoring after class ever since I wrote that paper on wanting to check out her black hole. What I really wanted to know was her _opinion_ on black holes, but I sort of forgot to mention that and it all came out wrong. She is so beautiful that when I'm around her I get all sweaty and stupid things come out of my mouth. She is threatening to fail me if I don't start behaving. I am considering changing my major to theater as have always enjoyed those traveling theater troupes that sometimes visit, except those ones from Geonosis. Their insect wings creep me out and I have trouble understanding all that clicking and buzzing.

Dear Diary,

If you can believe it, the recruiting situation has gotten even WORSE! It seems that 99.9 of the planet's population is too intelligent for the infantry. I have no clue what the Empire is going to do, but I've got problems of my own. Dr. Sinclair is threatening to swear out a restraining order against me ever since I asked if I "could see you in your office to discuss my neutrino emissions." What I meant to say was, "could I see you in your office to discuss my paper about neutrino emissions" but I got all flustered again and it just came out wrong. I wonder if acting pays well?

Dear Diary,

Help! I've been kidnapped by the Empire and pressed into service! I guess the shortage is worse than anyone imagined. It all started innocently enough. Dr. Sinclair had given me another failing grade. I guess she didn't like my paper on the Mating Habits of the Residents of Penal Colony Shlongus. Some people have no sense of humor. Really, I'm failing that class anyway so I thought I might as well go out with a bang. I went to the bar down the street to drink my worries away and I got to talking to this guy about all of my problems with Dr. Sinclair. He seemed awfully sympathetic and kept buying me Corellian rum drinks. And that's the last thing I remember.

The next thing I knew I was laying on the deck of a Star Destroyer with a hangover that would kill a bantha and the dude from the bar, who apparently was a Recruitment Storm Trooper, was leaning against the wall and laughing at me. "Where am I?" I croaked.

"You're in the Imperial infantry now, boy," he snarled. "Did you enjoy your rum drink, smartass?"

"But I can't be in the infantry!" I moaned, alternatively trying not puking all over his pristine white armor and passing out again. "I've got asthma!"

"Asthma's not a problem," he replied. "And if you have objections to serving the Empire then Lord Vader himself will be glad to listen to them."

"No, that won't be necessary," I moaned. "I'll be happy to serve the Empire." As if I had a choice, anyway. Lord Vader! And I thought my asthma was bad. I wonder what kind of inhaler he uses?


	2. Guilty

Chapter Two: Guilty

Dear Diary,

Six weeks and a buzz cut later, I am now an official member of Emperor Palpatine's Elite Forces. Well, whoopee. I will admit, though, that I look pretty sexy in the uniform even if it is only flimsy plastic.

I have been assigned to Lord Vader's Star Destroyer. We're supposed to be carrying these secret plans for a new Death Star (secret my white arse, everyone knows about them. Captain Redly slipped the info to some pilots in a drunken midnight poker game, resulting in his untimely death at the hands of the Dark Lord himself). SOMEHOW the plans got into the hands of the Rebel Alliance. Personally, I think it was Palpatine's new Imperial intern. I never liked her. She hugs the Emperor WAY too much. Yuck. Just the thought of that makes me want to take a shower.

Anyway, we blasted our way onto Princess Leia's consular ship and start searching the joint for the plans. As much as I hated to do it, I had to stun the poor Princess and take her prisoner, but she'll be all right. She's such a pretty girl, too, even if she is a spy. I don't know about that hairdo, though. For some reason it makes me think of danishes and then I just get hungry.

Dear Diary,

One of the damn escape pods on the consular ship jettisoned itself to the surface and Lord Vader got the most inane idea that the Princess hid the secret plans inside since we couldn't find them anywhere on the ship. Personally, I think she's innocent. So, after an 8 hour shift he sends my team down to the surface to locate the escape pod. Hello?! Can you say overtime? Not to mention it's DAMN HOT down there, especially in armor!

For hours we marched until we found the escape pod and, of course, it was empty. There were some tracks, though, but I figured that whoever it was didn't have any food or water (since those rations were still present in the pod) so they'd probably died in the desert from the heat. We were very far from any of the settlements. I felt like I was about to die myself in that heat. I was tired, hot, and really sweaty. Not mention thirsty and Storm Trooper armor does not do a thing for body odor, let me tell you. We were all kind of standing around staring at each other, not really sure what to do. No one wanted to call back to base to report that we hadn't found anything for fear of what Lord Vader would do to us. Finally, I was so sick of the heat that I reached into my satchel and pulled out a standard washer that I'd used to repair the broken air conditioning unit my quarters. Air conditioning....ah....it was then that I knew I had to do something to get us out of that heat and back into the blessed coolness of the ship.

"Must act stupid," I thought and summoned my dumbest voice yet. I marched over to my commander and held up the washer. "Look, sir!" I said. "Droids!" Hell, for all I know droids could have been in the escape pod. I didn't really care.

The commander bought it and ordered us to follow the tracks, which eventually led us to the tracks of a Jawa sandcrawler. Jawas make their living finding (sometimes stealing) droids and reselling them. I can't say I much care for their livelihood but they're awfully cute! Apparently my counterparts don't agree with me, though, because when we finally caught up to the Jawa ship they started to shoot the cuddly little things until they were all dead. I was horrified but knew that if I didn't fire my blaster there would be questions. I managed to aim my blaster at the ship and blow some random holes into the hull.

While half of my team searched the ship's records, the other half arranged the bodies and threw around some Gaffi sticks and made fake Bantha tracks to make it look like the Tusken Raiders did it. What a bunch of losers! And they did it wrong, too! They made the Bantha tracks go side-by-side instead of in single file. Anyone who knows anything about Sandpeople knows that they ride in single file to hide their numbers. I wasn't about to suggest that they change it around, though, because I was already in a bad mood. I was also feeling more than a little guilty, because if I hadn't so selfishly suggested droids then perhaps those adorable little Jawas would still be alive.

This has been the worst day of my life.

Dear Diary,

Believe it or not, it's gotten worse. We found out that two droids had been sold to an Owen Lars only the day before, so we went over to his place to check it out. He was a moisture farmer. I say "was" because the droids weren't there and so the team killed him and his wife and leveled their farmstead.

I shall never forget what I saw today. I can't help feeling responsible for the death of that innocent farmer and his wife. It's entirely my fault that they and the Jawas are dead. I vow here and now that, as soon as the first opportunity arises, I will leave the Empire and join the Rebellion.

I always liked them better, anyway. Their uniforms aren't as cool but I'm a Good Guy and I should be fighting on the Good Guy team. I would have joined them much earlier but didn't have any chance of doing it while I was in college and lusting after Dr. Sinclair.

Mmmm....Dr. Sinclair. I miss her, though the last thing I heard about her was that she's dating an Imperial lieutenant. My opinion of her has definitely dropped a couple of points. Why go for a lieutenant when she could have had me? I should have been less subtle and more obvious in my papers. Perhaps a bit more tactful, too.


	3. Guard Duty Sucks

Chapter Three: Guard Duty Sucks

Dear Diary,

Well, we're supposed to be looking for those two droids so I got stuck on guard duty in Mos Eisley. This place is a dump. The only nice thing is that there are lots of Jawas around to talk to, even if they are a little smelly.

Something really weird happened to my buddy, Bob, today. He was guarding the main drag into town and stopping all the speeders and transports that came in. You know, the usual. As he told me, this speeder came along carrying an old man, a young kid about eighteen or so, and two droids. He starts to question them, asking them for their ID, (standard protocol) when the old man looks at him intently and says, "You don't need to see his ID." Now the funny thing, my Bob says, is he _knows_ that he needed to see the kid's ID but suddenly it just didn't seem important anymore. At the old man's suggestion, he told them to move along.

Well, we got off of guard duty right after that happened so and we decided to go into one of the local cantinas for a drink. That is, Bob wanted a drink. I've sworn off booze since it's what got me into this mess in the first place. The Empire has this stupid rule that when we're off-duty on a non-Empire occupied planet we still have to be in uniform so when two Storm Troopers go waltzing into the cantina everyone starts acting weird (personally I can't blame them...these uniforms are kind of imposing). I couldn't help but notice two dead bodies on the floor and, without us even asking, the bartender pointed to a corner booth. Bob spied the old man and the kid sitting in the corner with a guy in a vest and a Wookie. "Those are the dudes," he said. I didn't see anything special about them.

They sure seemed awfully nervous when we walked in because they beat a hasty retreat. The dead bodies didn't really bother me because, come on, this is Mos Eisley. You practically can't sneeze here without someone getting offended and blasting your butt off.

Anyway, after 8 hours of duty I really had to use the can, so as I headed for the 'fresher I flashed the guy in the vest and the Wookie a smile. Then I remembered that they couldn't see me under my helmet. Stupid helmet.

Well, my buddy had a couple of drinks and no sooner had we stepped outside the cantina and were making our way to the next transport back to the ship, when we suddenly got the order to head for Docking Bay 94. Apparently the droids we were looking for were trying to hightail it off the planet.

"Lesh go!" drawled Bob. Apparently he'd had one too many.

"You're in no condition to be on duty," I said. "You're piss drunk."

"Noimnot," he slurred. "Imafine. Nowcomeon."

There was no use arguing with him in that state so we followed the rest of the troops to the docking bay. As we entered the launch pad I could see a round, disk-shaped space ship that looked as if it had been quilted together by my grandma was just taking off. What a piece of crap! My cohorts were shooting blindly at it, even Bob. Amazing. He shoots better drunk then he does when he's sober!

However, hardly any hits were sustained and the ship escaped. We were ordered back to the Star Destroyer and we've been given orders to rendezvous with the Death Star. I guess I'll get to see first hand what this supposedly new Weapon of Ultimate Death is supposed to look like.


	4. Detention and Decaptiation

Chapter Four: Detention and Decapitation

Yo Diary,

Well, we arrived at the Death Star and found out that they'd blown away Alderaan. WHY?! I can't for the life of me imagine why'd they blow up Alderaan. It was a peace loving planet and had never done anything to the Empire. The rest of the troops are having a celebration party down in the canteen but I'm not going. Every day I hate the Empire more and more.

After I'd reported in to my new post this afternoon we got sent around on routine patrol the ship. In the main hallway I saw two troopers leading a Wookie in binders. Now all Wookies look the same to me, but I'd swear in front of the Imperial High Court that it was the same Wookie I'd seen in the cantina back on Tatooine. Not ten minutes later there's some sort of commotion up in the Detention Level and we get called up there on the double.

The first thing I saw when I arrived was that the control panel had been blown to hell. The second thing I saw was that not only was the Princess _not_ in her cell, but she had been joined by two guys in Storm Trooper uniforms (sans helmets) and a wookie. The same Wookie we'd seen not a few minutes before. Personally, I think the blonde guy was a little short for a Storm Trooper. We tend to be tall and stupid and can't hit the broad side of a hanger bay door with a blaster. Speaking of blasters, the team started shooting and hitting everything but their targets (as usual), but the Princess and Company disappeared down the garbage shoot.

They're as good as dead if the Death Star has a Dia Nogu that lives in the garbage mashers. It's going to eat them alive if it catches them. The Dia Nogu eat anything organic, dead or alive that are chucked into the garbage because it's more eco-friendly...it's a strange symbiotic relationship, if you ask me. Dia Nogu are standard-issue for Imperial ships. Hell...everything is standard in the Empire, right on down to our whitey-tighty Storm Trooper underwear. I wonder if the Dia Nogu likes Storm Trooper underwear?

Anyway, there was hell to pay when our commander arrived. "How did they get in there? Where did they get the uniforms?!" No one else seemed to be able to piece it together that the two Storm Troopers we'd seen in the hall with the Wookie had obviously knocked someone over the head somewhere and stolen the uniforms. All they had to do was check the logs and see who was missing and/or couldn't be accounted for. The Imperials are such morons!

Well by this time the whole place was on alert and we got sent down to the hangar bay to guard the ship that I'd seen blast its way out of Mos Eisley. I was surprised when less than an hour later Darth Vader himself showed up and proceeded to have a lightsaber duel with some guy that was at least two hundred and three. Unfortunately, we were all so engrossed on what was going on that we didn't see the Party of Four (aka Princess and Company) make a mad dash for their ship. It was about then that Vader chopped the old guy's head off. But the weird thing is...he just disappeared. I mean, his body disappeared. The brown robe he was wearing dropped to the ground. It was the strangest thing I'd ever seen (well, except for maybe that time last year at the Microastronomy Department's Annual New Year's Fete when Dr. Sinclair got drunk and started dancing on the Sabaac tables with a lampshade over her head and calling everyone "Johnny").

So the young kid starts screaming and my cohorts start firing at him. In the end, they got away. How they got the tractor beam off, I have no idea. They sent some TIE's out to catch them but they still escaped. Personally, I am glad.


	5. Breaking the TIEs That Bind

Chapter Five: Breaking the TIEs That Bind

Dear Diary:

En route to Yavin IV to attack a Rebel Base that's hidden on one of the moons. We should be there in a couple of hours. I can only guess that the Empire must have put a homing beacon on the Princess' rescue ship. That probably explains why they got away so easily.

This will be my only chance to reach the Rebels. Of course...the Death Star is probably going to blow the base to bits unless the Rebels figure out a way to destroy it first. There's always the slim possibility that they'll get a torpedo down the thermal exhaust port. It leads right to the reactor and would blow this thing into the next dimension. Even if the Rebels do lose, I'd rather live out the rest of my life abandoned on Yavin then spend another day as an Empirical groundling.

My plan is to get myself into a TIE fighter and land it on the surface near enough to the base (hopefully I won't get blown out of the sky by either the Empire or the Rebels) while the battle is going on. I heard something interesting at lunch today that gave me an idea. In the Mess I sat near enough to the pilots' table to hear anything that might be useful. For a long time it was the usual: boasting about battles, who scored with what girl, and how stupid the Storm Troopers are (I had to agree with them on that one). Finally, the conversation shifted subjects.

"Where's Frampton?" asked one of the pilots. I could only guess Frampton was their buddy.

"He got pretty sick this morning after breakfast and is going to be in the infirmary

for a while. I'll bet it was the pickled Nerf's feet that did it. Poor bastard's always been fond of that weird stuff."

That was just what I was looking for. Since all the pilots were still eating, I high-tailed it out of there and snuck into their locker room. It didn't take me long to locate Frampton's locker and break into it, thanking the gods for learning that trick back in secondary school when the jocks used to shut me up in my own locker. It's happened so many times that eventually I learned how to break myself out. This is the first time I ever broke _in_ to one, though.

I grabbed Frampton's flight gear and hid it in my own quarters. Then, I got my own civilian clothes and other personal effects and located Frampton's TIE fighter in the hangar bay. If everything goes right, I can fly out with the rest of the squadron and right on down to the Moon's surface...if everything goes right. I haven't flown in a while and I've never piloted a TIE fighter.

This is the scariest thing I've ever done. So...I'm going to say good-bye right now in case I die. Good-bye, Diary. Thanks for listening to my complaints. I wish I could say good-bye to Dr. Sinclair and apologize for all the times I didn't listen in class and tried to look up her skirt. Ok...maybe I'm not so sorry for trying to look up her skirt. Can you blame me, though? SHE'S HOT!!!!

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Commanding Officer's Log, Hangar Bay 4:

All pilots launched successfully in defense against Rebel fighters, including Frampton. Had received report that he was in the infirmary with a case of food poisoning from rancid Nerf feet. Yuck. Seems to have been cured, though. Amazing what those medical droids can do. They find more uses for Bacta every year.


	6. Welcome To the Rebellion

Chapter Six: Welcome To the Rebellion

Dear Diary,

The events of the past twenty-four hours have been pretty harrowing. I did manage to break away from the squadron and land in the jungle. No one seemed to notice, really, because the TIE fighters and the Rebels were all fighting over the Death Star. It was only moments after I'd landed, stepped out of the fighter, and was in the middle of changing out of my flight suit that the sky was lit up by an enormous explosion. The Death Star had been blown to smithereens. I cheered out loud and did something of a victory dance, but it was kind of hard because I was only half-dressed. My pants fell down and I went face-first into a mud puddle. Good thing I brought a spare change of clothes.

By my calculations I was less than a mile from the Rebel Base, but I hadn't accounted for the dense jungle surrounding it. I shoulder my pack with all of my belongings (even brought along my Storm Trooper armor) and started marching east. I had to hack through some of the undergrowth with my vibromachete. That thing is pretty loud so I guess that's what disturbed the carnivorous animal that suddenly came charging at me from nowhere.

I took off running, hacking wildly at the foliage with my vibromachete. Fortunately, I didn't have very far to go before I fell flat on my face (again) onto the stones of a courtyard. Before me was a massive temple and I knew I'd reached the Rebel Base because there were people celebrating everywhere. I raced across the courtyard with the beast on my heels when there were a couple of sudden roars from overhead. An X-wing and the disc-shaped ship were coming in for a landing on the courtyard. I hit the deck as they flew over my head and into the bottom of the temple, which acted as a sort of hangar bay. The ships frightened the beast off and I stood up and dusted myself off.

Some of the people who were celebrating had run off at the site of my appearance and my pursuer, but now they reemerged. One of them, a tall man in a khaki uniform approached me. He was obviously in charge. "Who are you?" he demanded. "Are you the pilot of that TIE fighter we tracked landing in the jungle?"

"I am, sir," I admitted. "I'm a defector from the Empire, if you'll have me. I have no love for the Imperials and I wish to join the Rebellion."

"Well, that may be," he replied, "but you don't just fly in here uninvited. How do I know you're not an Imperial spy?"

I didn't have time to answer, though, because just then another officer stuck his head out of the hangar door. "General Dodonna, sir! They're back! Come and see!" The general glanced over at him and I could see he was eager to join the festivities. "Marcus!" he barked

"Yes, sir?" answered the officer.

"I want you to keep an eye on this man. He claims to be an Imperial defector and I don't want him to go anywhere until I've had a chance to interview him." The General glanced up at the pieces of Death Star debris that were still raining down from the sky and he smiled. "Not that he's going anywhere, anyway." He turned and walked into the hangar.

The officer named Marcus nodded at me and gestured into the temple. "Well, if you _are_ an Imperial defector, let me be the first to personally welcome you to the Rebellion. And if you're not...well, let's just say there's a very large Wookie in there with a bad attitude."

I smiled nervously and followed him into the bay where we joined in the celebrations. I am greatly relieved to be free of the Empire but I can't help but wonder what further adventures lay for me ahead as I begin my new life in the Rebel Alliance....

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Do you want more?! Please RR and let me know! I'll happily continue on with the rest of the Trilogy if you like! THANKS! :-D


	7. Ride 'Em TaunTaun

Chapter 7: Ride 'Em Taun-taun!

Dear Diary,

It's been about two years or so since I've last written in you. A lot has happened since I joined the Rebellion back on Yavin. It seems like it was so long ago but it really hasn't been. I was thoroughly questioned by the leaders of the Rebellion, including Princess Leia herself. After many days I convinced that my intentions were genuine, especially after they heard about the way the Empire, um, "convinced" me to join! It turns out that they needed a Quantum Cellular Microastronomist. Even though I never completed college I had pretty much finished the required classes for that degree. Also, I had a lot of inside information about how the Empire conducts their training classes and modes of command. So, pretty much I've been working in the lab and writing recommendations for potential bases, that kind of thing. I play a big part in keeping us one step ahead of the Empire and closer to reunifying the galaxy under one republic, like the old days.

Eventually the Empire came back and forced us from Yavin and we fled briefly to Thila to hide. However, the Rebellion needed something more permanent and we put together a team to discover a place that they wouldn't look for us. We came up with Hoth, which is a freezing cold ball of ice in a remote sector. The chances of the Empire finding us there was pretty slim. We sent out some construction crews and we've been here at Echo Base for a couple of days.

If I thought Tatooine was hot...then this place is the extreme opposite. Everything freezes here: food, water, your clothes, turds...it's disgusting. But, we're well protected. We're starting the process of setting out markers and exploring the planet. It's going to take a long time because most of the terrain is difficult to navigate on foot. We're using taun-tauns to get around (which wasn't my idea). They're native to Hoth and domesticated pretty easily, but they STINK. A lot. And make these "woggy woggy" sounds that, for some reason, just creep me out.

Hey Diary,

There is way too much work for the Rebellion's only Quantum Cellular Microastronomist to be doing. Mon Mothma promised that she'd try to find me an assistant soon, but no one in the Rebellion is qualified. I spend most of my time freezing in the tiny lab or freezing down at the makeshift corral learning to ride the taun-tauns. I'm not remotely interested in riding those disgusting things, but everyone is under orders to since we're all pitching in and helping wherever needed. Hoth is a bare-bones facility at best and there aren't a lot of luxuries here. What I wouldn't give for a hot tub and a cold beer about now! Forget that. I'd take a warm beer over a cold one. I don't remember the last time I was warm.

Despite all the work there's still time to relax. Most of the pilots in Rogue Squadron (man, those guys are CRAZY but in a good way) decided it would be fun to stage a taun-taun rodeo! I guess what they're really trying to do is bond with their mounts because taun-tauns can be extremely stubborn. I'm not a big fan myself, but even I'll admit that there's nothing funnier than to see a pilot get thrown off of his mount while trying to race it around a couple of old fuel drums painted in bright colors. The only one who hasn't gotten thrown is Luke Skywalker. He's a nice kid, about my age and we've had some pretty great conversations while freezing together in the Mess Hall.

Well, got to get back to the lab. I've got some more work to do. We're supposed to start searching for _another_ planet to hide out on just in case the Empire discovers we're here. It never ends. But, that's the way life in the Alliance goes, I guess. I wouldn't have it any other way.


	8. The Cold Shoulder Is Hotter Than It Seem...

Chapter 8: The Cold Shoulder Is Hotter Than It Seems

Dear Diary,

Mon Mothma FINALLY found me some assistance after promising me months ago. I'm both grateful and relieved because the work load is getting unbearable. She's supposed to arrive in a couple of days, as soon as the next transport can get here. Mon Mothma didn't know her name, though, just said that she is highly qualified in her field and actually has a degree so I'll be getting some help on those areas that are still a little grey. But I've also learned a lot just doing on this on my own, much more than I ever got at school.

Han Solo, the pilot of the _Millennium Falcon, _and his Wookie sidekick, Chewbacca, have been pretty eager to get out of here. I guess Solo has some old debts to pay off, but they're having a lot of problems with their ship. It's going to take a while to fix them. In the meantime, Chewie consistently beats me at Sabaac. But just between you and me, Diary, I let him win. I don't want to get my arms torn off.

Speaking of Solo, there is DEFINITELY some major sexual tension going on between him and Princess Leia. It's become a pretty big joke with the Rebels, especially those jokesters in Rogue Squadron. Personally, I've sworn off women for the time being. They're way too much trouble and this base is so tiny that everyone knows your business. You can't take a dump without half the base knowing about it. Besides, the few women here think I'm a huge geek who hates smelly taun-tauns and spends all my time holed up in my little lab writing reports. Well, my work is important. And I do have feelings and talents, too. I am creative and sensitive. I'm especially fond of those fiction sites on the Galactaweb and have been known to pen a few of my own short stories from time to time. I just haven't been able write much lately because our transmissions are limited.

Maybe, eventually, someday I will find myself a nice girl and settle down. But for now I'm too busy and having too much fun being single. Gotta run, Diary. I am meeting Wedge and the others in the lounge to watch an action holo someone smuggled in on the last transport. Finally, some R&R!

Dear Diary,

This has been the worst day of my life. My new assistant arrived today while I was going through my daily despised taun-taun training. The beast I've been partnered with is extremely temperamental and I'm having trouble breaking him in. I'm a scientist, not an animal trainer! Taun-tauns have this nasty habit of regurgitating milk when they're mad or angry and spitting it at you. I had fallen off my taun-taun, whom I'd named Vader just for kicks (Han thinks that's hilarious), for umpteenth time when General Dodonna came over with a rather familiar-looking lady.

"Lieutenant Dyson?" he asked, looking over the ice wall of the corral.

"Yes, sir?" I answered, yanking on Vader's bit. The stupid animal promptly spit milk up all over my front. I grumbled and gave him a shove.

The general was trying very hard not to laugh. "I'd like to introduce you to your new associate, Commander Evelyn Sinclair."

DR. SINCLAIR?! What was SHE doing here, now, and on the most remote snowball of a planet in the galaxy? And since when did she join the Rebellion?! Last I'd heard she was dating that Imperial lieutenant.

Now, Diary, I have changed quite a bit from the nerdy college boy that I used to be. The short amount of time I spent in the Imperial Infantry and the nearly two years I've spent serving the Rebel Alliance has pretty much forced me to grow up. But there, standing in front of me, was the gorgeous and highly intelligent Dr. Sinclair, my old college professor and I found myself turning back into the nervous, stuttering college kid that I used to be.

Dr. Sinclair was looking at me rather amused. "Ah yes, Mr. Dyson and I know each other very well," she said to the general. "He was a former student of mine."

"Dr...I mean Commander Sinclair how...um...nice you...I mean..seem...yeah, to see you again," I stuttered.

"Lieutenant Dyson, I can see you haven't changed a bit," she murmured, knowingly. "Well, if you don't mind I'd like to see my laboratory."

"Of course," General Dodonna replied. "But I'll let Lieutenant Dyson show you around so you two can get reacquainted and talk shop." He strode off towards the hangar bay.

Dr. Sinclair looked over at me. "Well?" she asked raising an eyebrow, the kind that professors reserve for students that can't answer the easy questions like, "What's the population of Coruscant?"

"Well, um, I...I need a minute," I answered her. Well, I did! I was dirty and covered in taun-taun puke! "Um...why don't you meet me in the Mess? If you'll excuse me..." I scurried away before she could answer, turning bright red the entire time. I shut Vader back up in his stall and started off for my quarters for a quick shower and to change my clothes.

I must have looked pretty upset because Han stopped me in the West Passage. "Hey, Dyson! Another session with Vader?" he asked. "If he's that much trouble you might try taming another one. Maybe a female, they're not so temperamental."

_What would you know about taming females?_ I thought. _You can't even get the Princess to stop arguing with you for more than a day._ However, I just shrugged. "No, it's my new associate. She's actually an old professor of mine that I kind of had the hots for way back when."

Han grinned from ear to ear. "Go for it, kid! We could use a little more romance to heat up this ice cube."

_Then why don't you be the one to do it?_ "I'm not like that anymore," I grumbled and hurried off to my quarters.

Dr. Sinclair was not very pleased that we have to share a workspace but she also understands that Echo Base is tiny and every available centimeter is utilized. She looked me right in the eye and said, "Lieutenant Dyson, I hope that you will maintain a professional relationship with me. I am no longer your instructor and we are going to be working in close quarters from now on. Do you understand, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, Commander. And I...um..assure you that I've...erm...not...yeah...like that...right..."

"Lieutenant, we really need to get you some speech therapy." And she then proceeded to give me the cold shoulder for the next two days.

I've received the cold shoulder many times over the years, but never has it been so hot.


	9. A Rebellious Professor

**Author's Note:** This chapter is a little longer than the others because it's got some background info on the newest member of Echo Base. The story has taken a turn for the more serious, but I promise there is still a lot of humor. Keep up the reviews! Thanks!

* * *

Chapter Nine: A Rebellious Professor

Dear Diary,

Things have gotten a little bit more relaxed between me and Commander Sinclair. Even though I still think she's gorgeous, there's really not a lot of time for me to hit on her because we're just too busy. And, like I said, I'm not like that anymore.

She has changed a lot from the Dr. Sinclair I remember. I remember her as always having a smile on her face and laughing a lot. She had that unique ability of keeping a professional distance with her students but also able to joke around and put them at ease (except for me, I guess). She rarely smiles now. The Commander Sinclair I see sitting across from me in our lab is much more sober and careworn. She looks older, which is odd because she's only about thirty. Her black hair is always pinned up into a neat bun, but in the old days she would wear it down. I used to dream of burying my hands into those soft, dark waves. Now she looks like an old matron. Her blue eyes carry a haunted look about them, a look she never used to have.

I've actually become her subordinate because she has the higher degree, but I've got more experience in the field. She assumed that this was going to piss me off (it didn't) and that accounted for her guarded attitude around me the first few days she was here. Eventually she became more accustomed to my presence in the lab. With our combined experiences we're turning out to be an awesome and effective team.

It's been three weeks since her arrival and I think she's lonely here. There aren't a lot of females at Echo Base and when she's not working she's in her room. She doesn't socialize at all. She won't even go out of her way to make friends. Last week the Base had a little get-together and I suggested that she join us, but she just shot me an icy look and said, "No thank you, Lieutenant." Han remarked that she's almost up there with Princess Leia in terms of being an Ice Princess. Almost.

I've decided that my new mission is going to be bringing her out of her shell, whether she likes it or not. After all, what's she going to do? Flunk me?

Dear Diary,

We're having trouble establishing a stable link between one of the Third Markers and the Base. Normally, that isn't in my field of expertise but you'd be amazed all the stuff I've picked up around Echo Base simply because we don't have the manpower. Besides my own primary duties, I've served as a Mess Cook, occasional mechanic, and Wedge is trying to talk me into learning how to fly an X-Wing ever since I pulled that stunt in the TIE fighter (it's been two years and he still hasn't succeeded...you'd think he would have given up by now!). Well, we do need pilots but I'm not so sure that I'm the one to fill those shoes. Somehow, I just can't see myself on Rogue Squadron.

General Dodonna dropped into the lab this morning and asked me and the commander to ride out past Hudson's Ridge and try to manually boost the signal strength on one of the transponding markers. They'd tried unsuccessfully to do it by remote, so it was obviously a mechanical problem. I guess they're worn thin with all of the repairs and expansions going on because that's not something he'd normally assign us to do. But we both eagerly agreed because it's nice to get out of the lab for a while and, for once, our work wasn't too pressing.

So Commander Sinclair and I saddled up our tauntauns and headed out. It was a pretty clear day for Hoth, though we both knew that it could change any minute. Hoth is prone to sudden and violent snowstorms so it's important to get out, do your duties, and get back inside. We didn't talk on the ride out there and reached our destination in about forty-five minutes.

In no time we located the first of the three Markers, which were half-buried in snow. I popped off the side panel and peered through my goggles into the tangle of wires and circuitry. One of the connections was loose. I tightened down the loose bolts using the laser wrench. "That should do it," I said to Commander Sinclair.

She nodded and flipped on her comm-unit. "Echo Ten to Echo Base. Are you receiving a stronger signal from Marker Three-One?" she asked.

"Affirmative, Echo Ten. Got it nice and strong. Good job."

"Copy that, Echo Base. Echo Ten out." She switched off the comm-unit and helped me lug the heavy panel back into place.

"Thanks," I said.

"No problem," she answered and headed over to where her tauntaun was grazing at the top of the ridge. Hudson's Ridge looks over a vast ice ocean and it's one of the most scenic spots on the planet. I picked up the toolbox, strapped it back onto Vader, and joined her at the top. "It's beautiful," she breathed, her eyes roving over the pristine white landscape that stretched below us.

"I forgot that this is your first time out," I responded. "The general couldn't have chosen a better spot to have us do repairs." Vader clomped up behind me and started nibbling on the fur hood of my coat. "Vader, no! Bad!" I nudged his face away and he stepped back a few paces.

Commander Sinclair started laughing and I turned back to look at her, surprised. "What?" she asked, noting the look on my face.

"You laughed," I answered. "I haven't heard you do that since you arrived."

The smile on her face faded and I was instantly sorry for having said anything. "I haven't had anything to laugh about," she admitted. "But you and that tauntaun..." she smiled slightly again.

I couldn't resist. I had to know why. "Commander...may I ask you a personal question?"

She looked sideways at me then nodded, "As long as it's not about my black holes."

She'd cracked a joke! I don't ever remember her joking with me and I grinned. "No, not about black holes. I just wanted to know how you wound up in the Rebellion."

There was a long silence and I thought maybe I'd asked the wrong question. After all, it really wasn't any of my business. "That," she answered finally, "is a long story and I'll be happy to relate it to you, but not here. It's too cold. Let's go back to base and I'll tell you my story over a cup of caf in the Mess."

Another first! She wanted to actually share a meal with me. "Alright, let's go." I swung up into Vader's saddle and she mounted her tauntaun.

There was a strange look in her eye and she smiled at me. "Race you back to base!" she called and kicked her tauntaun into full gallop. I sat there for a second watching her retreating form and shaking my head. What had gotten into her? She'd never acted like this before, but it was nice to see her laughing and acting like...like a normal human being. I'd known there was a warm personality somewhere under all that icy façade. I guess it just took a trip into the ice itself to melt it.

"Let's get her, Vader," I hollered and he shot off after her, bellowing into the crisp, afternoon air.

We got back to Echo Base in no time and she beat me by less than a meter! Aargh! We quickly put our tauntauns back into their pens and headed for the semi-warmth of the Mess. After we'd peeled off three layers of clothes, retrieved our caf from the line, and found a spot at a corner table she told me her story.

She propped her feet up on a chair and took a sip of her drink. "How I got into the Rebellion..." she thought for a second and shrugged, "The truth is I've secretly been working for the Alliance for many years. I joined back when I was working on my undergrad, but I'd never seen any action. I was just a contact on our planet, which was pretty safe for me because the Empire didn't have a presence there. That is, until three years ago."

"When the Empire took over," I said.

She nodded briefly. "Yeah. For awhile I was alright, even thinking they wouldn't find me out because I was just a minor contact. You'd be surprised how much information you can pick up while working at the University, though. I started dating an Imperial lieutenant in the hopes that I could get information to pass on to the Rebellion. But I was naïve. Last year, the Imperials raided one of our safe houses and my name was found in the files. That same Imperial lieutenant signed my termination order."

Ouch. "How did you escape?" I asked.

Commander Sinclair smiled. "Not all of the Rebels were caught and word got to me moments before the Storm Troopers arrived at my office. I managed to escape off the planet in the back of a merchant supply ship. I hid out for months on Corellia until I could locate a Rebel contact. And that's how I wound up here."

No wonder she looked the she way she did. Her whole life had been turned upside down. She'd lost everything, but that's not an uncommon story here. Most everyone that's fighting in the Rebellion has lost everything because of the Empire, myself included. But, that's why we're fighting.

"Well, I'm glad you're here," I replied. "I'm thankful that someone is helping with the work load and you're the best person for the job. We make a good team."

She laid a hand on top of mine and said, "You've made it a lot easier for me, Eugene." She chuckled a little and continued, "I admit that I wasn't too pleased when I saw you, but now I know just how much I needed to see a familiar face."

SHE CALLED ME BY MY FIRST NAME?! "If there's anything I can do to help you, Commander..." I began.

"Evelyn," she answered. "Call me Evelyn. We're co-workers now and there's no need for formality when it's just the two of us speaking together."

"Evelyn," I repeated. Will someone please pinch me?! I thought I was dreaming. That is, until Wedge and Luke came over with mugs of hot caf.

"Good afternoon, Commander Sinclair" said Wedge, "how nice to see you out of your office." He grinned at me. "Hey, Dyson."

Evelyn stiffened up noticeably but I wasn't about to let her get all icy again. She really needed to loosen up some more with the rest of the base, not just around me. "Wedge, Luke. Would you like to join us?" I asked. There were two empty chairs at the table.

"Sure!" Luke said and they sat down. "So when are you going to quit holing yourself up in that lab and join Rogue Squadron?"

"I didn't know you were in on this conspiracy," I said to Luke while looking pointedly at Wedge. Wedge just grinned back.

"Well, you are a good pilot, whether you think so or not," Wedge said.

"You're just assuming that, Wedge. You've never even seen me fly! You forget I'm a scientist," I answered. "I analyze data and I hole myself up for days at a time in the lab for a good reason. Look, your job is to fly. My job is to keep us ahead of the Empire by finding us places to establish a sufficient base. I'm not a very good pilot."

"That's funny, Dyson. I distinctly remember you flying with the University Civil Air Patrol your first year at the university," Evelyn suddenly broke in. "And didn't you win a couple of medals doing that? As I recall, you were a pretty good pilot."

There was a silence as Wedge and Luke looked between her and me. How could she mention that!? That was something that I seriously try to forget. "You never told me..." Wedge started in, but I cut him off.

"The only reason I joined was because the Infantry program wouldn't take me because of my feet. I lied to the Guard and became a pilot, but then I was found out and kicked out of the program. It's not something that I'm proud of." My face couldn't have been any redder had I been sunburned on Tatooine.

"Is that why you won't fly? Because you lied?" Luke asked. "Come on, Dyson. The Alliance doesn't care about your feet. We don't make you march....usually."

"And you can't tell us that you're still not interested in flying. Dack said you were asking him questions about the snowspeeders yesterday in the hangar," Wedge added, still grinning. "Come on, Dyson. You know we need pilots and you've got the skills."

"No, I don't," I said. "You've got the wrong person."

"Why don't you come with us tomorrow, anyway?" Luke suggested. "You don't have to pilot; you just can ride with me in the gunner's seat."

"Go with them, Lieutenant," urged Commander Sinclair. "I can clear up the reports by myself and you can help me with the survey of Galvor Twelve when you get back."

"See! You don't have to work!" Wedge cheered. "Come with us!"

As much as I hate to admit it, I couldn't pass it up. The snowspeeders do look like a lot of fun. "Well, ok," I said.

"Great!" Wedge replied and slapped me on the back. "See you in the hangar tomorrow at 0800 hours."

What have I gotten myself into?! I was an idiot for inviting them to sit down. Then again...Evelyn did talk to someone other than me, so maybe it was worth it.

Maybe.


	10. From Scientist to Flyboy

**Author's Note:** This chapter was a blast to write and a little bit of a challenge, too. When I thought of Dyson's feelings for this chapter, I remembered how it feels to ride an above-track suspended rollercoaster, like Batman the Ride at Six Flags Over Texas. You feel like you can fly! It's also dedicated to my partner-in-crime and best friend, Christina because this is just the kind of fun we have together! :-D

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Chapter Ten: From Scientist to Flyboy

Dear Diary,

I will have to admit that when I got up this morning and headed over to the hangar, I was feeling pretty nervous. I knew that was silly, though, because it wasn't like I was actually going to _fly_ one of the snowspeeders. I was just going along for a ride.

Luke was already there when I arrived and was in his bright orange flight suit. He was looking over the speeder and talking to the Deck Officer. "Good morning, Eugene," he said when he spotted me. "There's an extra flight suit and a helmet in the locker room for you." He pointed to a room off to the side of the hangar. "Get changed and meet me back here. We leave in fifteen minutes."

I nodded and unconsciously took a deep breath. The acrid smell of fuel filled my nostrils. I really love that smell. I moved off to the locker room where there were several pilots getting changed and joking around with each other. I miss that camaraderie. Watching them brought back so many memories that I had tried to bury. I could clearly see my University squadron. They were my best friends, like my own brothers and sisters. We did everything together. I could also see the look of disbelief and shame on their faces when I was dismissed from the program. I'd let them down. I looked around at the same companionship that the Rogue Squadron was exhibiting now and I knew that I didn't want to do that to anyone again.

"Hey, Dyson!" called Hobbie in greeting. "Your locker's down there." He pointed to the end of the row.

"My locker?" I asked. "I don't have a..." But I did. There was a spare locker that had my name chalked up on it. Inside were a flight suit and a helmet. Reluctantly, I donned the bright orange flight suit, tucked the helmet under my arm and headed back to the hangar on the heels of the rest of the Rogues. It felt strange to be wearing the suit again, but comforting in a way.

Luke grinned at me as I approached. "It's about time we saw you in uniform!" I smiled wanly. "Are you ok?" he asked in a quieter voice so the others didn't hear.

I shrugged. "Yeah...kind of brings back some memories, you know?"

He nodded. "Don't sweat it," he said. "All you have to do is enjoy the ride." He gestured to the ladder. "After you." I strapped my helmet on, climbed up the ladder and settled myself into the rear cockpit. The speeders are designed so that the gunner's position faces backwards from the pilot's. I was looking over the tail of the machine and at the guns. I strapped myself in as Luke climbed up and into the forward cockpit. "Where's Dack?" I asked suddenly, remembering that he is Luke's partner.

I could hear the laughter over the comlink as the canopy began to lower above my head. "He's volunteered to let you take his place this morning," Luke said. "I think he's glad to sleep in for once."

I didn't blame him. The luxury of sleeping in at Echo Base was rare. There's just too much work to do. Luke's canopy lowered and we were soon off, at the lead of the dozen or so speeders.

"Rogue Leader to all ships, report in," I heard Luke's voice over the comlink. Quickly the other ships reported in. "Attack pattern alpha, now!" I watched as the ships quickly maneuvered their speeders behind ours in a sharp pattern. I was impressed. "Good job, boys," praised Luke. "That was faster than last time. Alright, attack pattern gamma." Again, they moved at lightening speed into a new pattern.

"Watch your left wing, Hobbie," I heard Wedge say.

For the next hour or so the speeders practiced their formations. I could practically feel my hands on the yoke of the speeder, aching to pilot one. I would be lying to myself if I said I didn't miss it. Wedge flew by us at one point during a break in the formations and waved at me. I waved back, smiling broadly. "Is that a smile I see on your face, Dyson? Are you having second thoughts?" he asked over the comlink.

"You wish, Wedge," I answered.

"Come on, Dyson. Admit that you miss this."

"Yeah, well...ok." I said.

"Alright! It's about time you stopped deluding yourself." The squadron laughed.

Luke said, "Ok, boys, that's enough for today. Head back to base."

"Copy that, Rogue Leader," I heard echoed in my headset from the eleven other speeders.

Luke didn't turn back to the base, though, but kept flying. "Where are we going?" I asked, confused.

"Thought I'd stay out for a few minutes longer," Luke responded. "Is that alright?"

"Sure!" I answered.

"Hang on, then." He flew the speeder higher into the air and did a barrel roll.

"WOOOOHOOOOO!" I yelled out loud as the icy plain in front me spun in crazy circles and the adrenaline poured through me. I definitely missed that feeling.

"Copy that!" Luke said over the com and we both laughed. He flew on for a few more moments and then asked, "Hey, Eugene..."

"Yeah?" I asked.

"Do you want to fly her back to base?"

I was quiet for a moment and thought rapidly. How often would I get the chance to fly again? I definitely missed it. And I _really_ wanted to try out the speeder for myself.

"Eugene?" he asked.

"I would love to, commander. Thanks!"

"No problem," he said and landed the speeder down on the ice so we could change places. "She flies really easy," he coached me as I settled down into the cockpit and strapped myself in. "If you piloted a TIE fighter then this is nothing."

I grinned eagerly as the canopy lowered, and then started the speeder up and we were off. Diary, I can't tell you how exhilarating it was to be flying again. The feel of the stick in my hands and the vibrations of the engine under my feet thrilled me. I flew on, chatting with Luke about the features of the speeders and trying out some flying moves, even throwing a barrel roll. But it seemed like all too soon we were approaching the base. "Rogue Leader to Echo Base, request permission for landing," I said into the com.

"Permission granted, Rogue Leader...Skywalker, you sound odd. Is there something wrong with your com?"

"Nope," answered Luke. "That's Dyson you're talking to."

"Dyson?! Are you feeling alright, Skywalker?"

"Never felt better, Echo Base," he responded laughing as I guided the speeder into the hangar and landed.

The canopy lifted and I unbuckled myself and took my helmet off. I sat on the edge of the cockpit and couldn't resist waving down to Wedge as the ladder was rolled up to the speeder.

He looked shocked for a moment and then started hollering. "Dyson! I knew you were a pilot! Welcome to the squadron!"

"Not just yet," I answered as I clambered down the ladder. "That was just for fun, Wedge."

Luke followed me down. "You know, Lieutenant Dyson...if the base is attacked and we're deployed there's not a lot you'll be able to do here."

"I'll be a sub-commander of one of the evacuation ships," I replied as we headed back to the locker room to change. "Princess Leia worked out the plans months ago."

"That's true, but we could use you more on the squadron," Luke said. "You handled that speeder like a professional. I'll talk to Leia about switching you to the Rogues."

We reached the locker room and I leaned against the door and looked at both of them. I know when I'm defeated. "Alright," I answered. "Go ahead. But I'm still going to help out Commander Sinclair because there's just way too much work to do on her own. I can't quit my current job."

"So then you fly with Rogue Squadron part-time," Wedge answered. "You can fly on the morning practice runs." He clapped me on the back and we went into the locker room to change.

So, it looks like I'm a flyboy again. The Rebellion certainly utilizes every talent you've got!

Dear Diary,

I'm writing this during a break in trying to fix my speeder. It's certainly been a week. There's been a sudden drop in temperature and the speeders aren't functioning so well. There's been some bad news, too. Luke is missing. He and Han went out to set sensors earlier. Han came back but not Luke. Han went back out after him, but I'm afraid that he might not survive the night. The temperature drops rapidly after dark and the chances of surviving are next to nothing. Everyone is upset and the whole base is quiet. In the morning we're going to take the speeders out and look for them, which is why we're going to be up all night adapting the speeders to the colder weather. I'm already exhausted, but I'm not going to sleep until this thing is ready for flight.

We've got an energy field going up to protect us from us any attacks by the Empire, but they're running into snags.

Well, back to work. I only pray that Luke and Captain Solo are alright.

Dear Diary,

They're alive! Zev found them this morning and brought them back to base. Luke's expected to make a full recovery. Han's been trying to get out of here so he can pay off whoever he owes, but General Rieekan has ordered a lockdown until the energy shield is operational.

Evelyn was happy when she heard that I'd joined the squadron but the work is piling up. When I'm not flying on practice runs, I'm in the lab helping her but that also means late nights. However, I can't afford to be up late anymore because I have to be in top condition to fly. I can't be exhausted because it's too dangerous. It's a double-edged sword. I don't know what to do.

Well, I'm going to try and catch some sleep before I crash on top of these lab reports. I'm exhausted. I'm taking some sleeping drugs and turning off my alarm and my comlink so no one can bother me. GOOD NIGHT!


	11. See You Later, Vader

Author's Note: Thanks to Christina for the idea of Dyson's serial number.

* * *

Chapter Eleven: See You Later, Vader

Dear Diary,

Woke up this morning to the base shaking all around me. I also had one hell of a hangover. Never NEVER mix sleeping drugs and alcohol. I should have known better. Despite my pounding head, I knew something wasn't right. I opened my door and peered out into the hall and promptly spied the backsides of two Snow Troopers turning the corner. SNOW TROOPERS?! HERE?! The base must have been invaded while I was out cold. DAMMIT! I shut the door and locked it for good measure. I only hoped that the others had been able to evacuate in time. The base rocked again and I heard the far off distant boom of blasters.

There was no possible way for me to escape. I rummaged through my few belongings and started to pull on my old Storm Trooper outfit, but stopped. No, that wouldn't do me any good here. I quickly dressed in the under tunic of the uniform and piled my armor neatly back into the closet, save for the Imperial binders I still had. I dropped what few personal items I had that could tie me to the Rebellion (except this diary, and even this might be the death of me) into the garbage disposal. Then I slapped the binders onto myself and sat down on my bunk. I knew that eventually they'd start searching the rooms and find me. Echo Base has no prison or brig and that's to my advantage.

I waited around for awhile until finally the door was forced open and two guards entered. I didn't even give them time to react. I said, "Well, it's about time you guys got here!" I prayed that they were going to buy the elaborate story I'd concocted.

"Who are you?" demanded the first Snow Trooper.

"Corporal Eugene Dyson, Gamma Infantry," I stated. "Serial number TK-867-5309."

"Gamma Infantry?" the second one said, disbelief in his voice. "That's impossible. They were all blown to hell aboard the Death Star at Yavin."

"I was captured by the Rebel Scum right before the battle," I said. "They kidnapped me aboard their ship." Okay, so it was a big lie but since everyone who knows the truth is dead, no one could call me on it, right? "I've been kept a prisoner here ever since then."

The first Snow Trooper looked into my closet and spotted my armor. "He's telling the truth." The second trooper helped me to my feet. "You're safe now, corporal. We've just taken over the base and the Rebels are on the run, but we'll catch them."

A sinking feeling hit me right in the middle of my stomach. I felt like throwing up, but not from the hangover. "That's great," I managed to say, silently praying that my friends had escaped.

They unlocked the binders and I grabbed my personal bag and was led out into the open hangar bay. Debris was flung everywhere and the whole place was as silent as a tomb, but it looked as if everyone had gotten away. Lord Vader himself was looking over the place and I was marched up to him. "Lord Vader, sir, we found this man locked up in the North Passage. He is a corporal that was taken a prisoner of the Rebel Alliance nearly three years ago. His rank and serial number check out, sir, as a trooper that killed."

There is nothing scarier than looking right into the mask of the Dark Lord himself and I knew then that I'd definitely misnamed my Tauntaun. No matter how temperamental the smelly beast was, he was never as bad as this guy. "Killed? What is your unit?" Vader asked me.

"Gamma Infantry, Lord Vader," I responded.

"That is not possible, corporal. That entire unit was destroyed with the first Death Star."

I promised myself that I wasn't going to scream. "I regret the death of my comrades," I replied. "I was taken prisoner by the Rebels while they were docked on the Death Star shortly before the Battle of Yavin. They escaped from the Death Star and I've been held prisoner ever since then."

"And the name of that ship?" he probed.

"_The Millenium Falcon_, sir."

Vader paused. "The Rebellion is weaker than I surmised if they would keep you a prisoner for three years without terminating your life. Corporal...?"

"Dyson, sir," I said.

"Corporal Dyson, you will be rewarded for your service to the Emperor. You will be promoted to the rank of sergeant and assigned to serve with my personal detachment."

WHAT?!?! I cleared my throat. "Thank you, my lord. I am honored."

He gestured dismissively and I was led to a transport that took us up to a waiting Star Destroyer where I was shown quarters and assigned a new uniform. I don't know whether to kill myself right now or laugh out loud. For some reason or another, I have been put back into the hands of the Imperials but that doesn't make me an Imperial. Perhaps I can better serve the Rebellion from my position as one of Vader's guards.

Two things are certain: I'm getting back to the Alliance as soon as I can and, unbelievably, the Storm Troopers have gotten stupider in my absence!


	12. The Imperials Are Full of Hot Air

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the delay. I was given a copy of "Jedi Knight: Jedi Academy" and I've been happily chopping Stormtroopers in half while doing supercool things with a lightsaber. Yes, I know. I need to get a life. This chapter is a little off. It's one of those "bridge" chapters between major action, but I used this opportunity for Eugene to have some slight angst and a major revelation. I really feel sorry for this guy. Sheesh. I'm starting to feel sorry for my characters in a story that's intended to be humourous. I REALLY need to get a life! :-D

* * *

Chapter Twelve: Imperials are Full of Hot Air 

Dear Diary,

I think it's the irony of ironies that I got promoted to the personal legion of Vader, the Dark Lord himself, and I'm a Rebel. It also goes to show you how psychotic the Empire is. They find someone who's been proclaimed dead, supposedly the last surviving member of his squadron, and has been held prisoner by the Rebellion for the last three years. Do they send him home to his family, who're going to be overjoyed that their son is alive for some nice R&R? No! They promptly promote him and place him _back_ on active duty in the 501st Stormtrooper Legion, Vader's personal guard. It's almost mind boggling how insane the Empire is.

No sooner had I gotten aboard the Star Destroyer than we went off chasing after the _Millenium Falcon_. I was silently hoping that they'd get away and they hid out in an asteroid field (the Empire lost a lot of ships going after them...good!). Something scared them off, though, but get this! Instead of fleeing they ATTACKED the Star Destroyer AND they disappeared from scanners! Poor Han. The hyperdrive on the _Falcon_ must be out. They're hiding, but who knows where? Captain Needa lost his life over that one.

Well, now there's a bunch of bounty hunters on board. I'm not entirely sure why, but I'd make a fair guess that they're after Han Solo. I don't know who he's in debt to, but it's got to be someone who is powerful enough to afford these guys. They're some of the best in the galaxy from what I've heard tell.

Those bounty hunters make me think of Evelyn. I hope and pray that she got away all right. She told me that the Empire has a pretty sizeable bounty on her head. I've got a pretty good feeling that she's fine, though. I hope I can get back to her and the Alliance as soon as possible.

In the meantime, I'm off to complain to the Quartermaster about this new uniform I was hastily issued. The outside armor fits ok, but the inner jumpsuit is too short. It's giving me an incredibly uncomfortable wedgie!

Dear Diary,

Wedgie problem corrected. We finally went into hyperspace, to Bespin of all places. Why are we going there? Is Vader interested in opening up his own gas mining facility? Ha...I always knew he was full of hot air. Ok...that was bad. I humbly apologize for the sheer stupidity of that joke. But what do you expect? I'm not exactly in the best of moods right now. Even making bad jokes is a feeble attempt to brighten my spirits. I have no clue how I'm supposed to get back to the Alliance and I'd rather get eaten by a starved rancor than serve the Empire for the rest of my life.

Patience, Eugene. The opportunity will present itself in time. In the mean time I've got to make the best of my present situation. Living on Hoth taught me that. I learned a lot from the Rebellion, mostly just survival both physically and mentally. I also learned the values of trust and friendship. Man, I miss Wedge and Luke. I don't have any siblings and those two are the closest I've ever had to having brothers. Heck, I miss the whole Rogue Squadron. I miss my Tuesday night Sabaac games with Chewie, even though he always won. I even miss the way Han always tried to give me advice on landing Evelyn in the sack (like that would ever happen).

Evelyn. I miss the way she would come into the lab every morning with a cup of hot caf and a sexy smile on her face. I miss the way she'd smile at me right before she was going to deliver one of her famous one-liners or tease me about something from the old days. I miss the way she started to meet me in the hangar after my morning flights with Rogue Squadron. I always looked for her as I entered the hangar and there she'd be, leaning against the wall and staring at a datapad, but she'd look up at the sound of my speeder and smile brightly as I landed. And she'd be there at the bottom of the ladder and start briefing me on our work as I went to the locker room to change. I miss our conversations and the way she's started to casually lay her hand over mine as it rested on the table. And the way she'd gaze intently into my eyes as we talked...

Oh my...I just realized that I am head-over-heels in love with Commander Evelyn Sinclair. Before I just thought she was hot, but now I would do anything to protect her...even sacrifice my own life. I would do anything for her. I can't stand it! What if she doesn't feel the same way?

Well, I suppose I'll never know now that I'm serving the Imperials again.


	13. From Stormtrooper to Spy

**Author's Note:** ::comes out of haze:: Sorry for the delay. The last couple days have been busy. OH! I just saw the Muppet Show episode with Mark Hamill. IT WAS SO CHEESY! Though I did get a chuckle when Luke busts down the theater doors hollering, "Remember Alderaan! Down with the Empire!" to Kermit's dismay. And Threepio tap dancing. It was cute how Scooter had an autographed Mark Hamill picture on the wall of his bedroom during his song. I loved the "screen tests" for Yoda with some of the Muppets. Animal: "YODA YODA! JEDI MASTER! YODA!" and Pepe the Prawn: "I'm Yoda, ok. I'm a powerful Jedi master, ok."

Anyhooooo...here's another interim chapter and Eugene gets a new mission! WOOOO! Onwards and upwards and forwards and...erm...Chewie, just hit the hyperdrive already! _Vrrrrrrooooom...._

* * *

Chapter Thirteen: From Stormtrooper to Spy 

Dear Diary,

We arrived on Bespin and Lord Vader briefed us on our mission here. Somehow, SOMEHOW he knew that the _Millenium Falcon_ was headed here (I can only guess that it's his dark side intuition he gets from the Force) and that we're going to capture them and use them as bait so he can trap Luke. What the heck does he want with Luke? I mean...I know Luke was the one who blew up the Death Star, but it just doesn't make any sense at all.

I don't want any part of this, but I was personally chosen to escort Vader into Cloud City. He had a brief, but heated meeting with Lando Calrissian, the facility's administrator. I rather like Lando's sense of fashion as I've always been a sucker for dramatic capes.

It wasn't long before the _Falcon_ arrived and we captured Han, Princess Leia, and Chewbacca. Han is going to be turned over to the bounty hunter, Boba Fett, and I don't know what's going to become of Leia and Chewie. Maybe they'll stay here.

I did get a chance to talk to the Princess briefly after she'd spoken with Han (they've been torturing him pretty badly). I was assigned to escort her back to the makeshift interrogation room. There are only a few troopers on the station right now because Vader wants us to keep a low profile and not upset the residents here. A whole legion of Stormtroopers would certainly do just that.

The Princess looked very forlorn and tired and all the hope was gone from her eyes.

"Princess Leia, may I speak with you for a moment?" I asked, as I marched behind her.

"What do _you_ want?" she spat out.

"Your highness, it's Lieutenant Dyson."

"What?" she asked wearily and stopped, turning around. "Dyson? But how...? That's impossible. You should be with the Rebellion on the transports."

I gestured her into an alcove so we could speak privately and took my helmet so she could see my face. "I missed the transports," I explained. "The Empire found me in my quarters on Hoth and I was able to convince them that I'd been a prisoner of the Rebellion. Vader promoted me and assigned me to his personal guard. There's not much time, Princess. We've got to get you out of here. Maybe I can create a diversion or something..."

For a moment she looked hopeful, but then a thought seemed to cross her mind and her face fell. "No," she replied, shaking her head. "I can't leave before warning Luke. It's him that Vader wants and I can't let that happen. This whole thing is a trap."

"But you may not get the chance," I pointed out. "I don't want to leave Luke here, either, but the _Falcon_ is repaired. If we can get away we'll be able to warn Luke in time and he won't come."

She put a hand on my shoulder. "Lieutenant, I appreciate your concern. But Luke is already on his way here and by the time we manage to escape it will be too late."

"But, Princess..." I started to object. "There's got to be something we can do."

"It may be too late for some of us," she said, "but you can still help the Rebellion. As one of Vader's personal guards you are in a prime position to gather information. What I need you to do is keep your ears open and find a way to pass anything you think might be useful through our contacts. It's a dangerous job, Lieutenant, but I'm sure you can do it."

I could hardly believe my ears. Princess Leia was telling me to stay with the Empire. All I wanted to do was get back to the Rebellion and to Evelyn, but I also knew that she was right. I was in a great position to spy on the Empire and possibly do something to help bring Palpatine's rule to an end. It was a hard decision, but I nodded. "I understand, Princess."

"Let's go before someone suspects something," she said and I slid my helmet back on over my head. We proceeded to the interrogation room.

So I've gone from nerd to pilot to nerdy student to Stormtrooper to a Rebel Quantum Cellular Microastronomist back to pilot to 501st Stormtrooper Legion (aka Vader's Fist) and now to Rebel Spy. What next? Prima Ballerina of the Imperial Ballet? At the way things are going I wouldn't be surprised.

Dear Diary,

I still can't believe it. Han was frozen in carbonite and given to that bounty hunter, Boba Fett. That was one of the hardest things to watch. I seriously had to refrain from opening up with my blaster and laying waste to our enemies, but Vader would have killed me first. Plus, Chewie had already kind of gone berserk and Han had told him to cool it, so I knew that my heroics weren't going to help.

On the up side, he did kiss Princess Leia _and_ admitted that he loved her! Wish I could tell the Rogues, but they probably wouldn't believe me!

I will never forget the sight of Han encased in carbonite. It is an image that has been burned into my memory forever.

One of the other guys told me that Han owes a lot of money to Jabba the Hutt. YIKES! No wonder the price on Han's head is so big. He's one of the nastiest gangsters in the galaxy, if not the Outer Rim at least.

I heard that Luke found his way here and had a pretty mean duel with Vader. I don't know what happened, but I do know that Luke disappeared. So did Leia, Chewie, and Lando on the _Millenium Falcon_ and they rescued Luke who'd decided to go hang around underneath Cloud City like a trapeze artist.

You'd think that Vader would be furious after losing Luke, but he seems to be merely contemplative. I don't understand it, but then again I don't really have to. I've got too many things of my own to worry about right now. I'm beginning to wonder if I'll ever see the Rebellion again. The chances of me surviving are starting to look pretty slim. Imperial information is very hard to procure and the Rebel contacts are few and far between. Even if I do get something useful, the chances of me getting it to the Rebellion are slim to none. But...I don't mind dying for the Alliance because, Force knows, countless others have died for this cause, too. The only thing I regret is that I might never see my beloved Evelyn again.


	14. The Death Star and the Dance Hall

**Author's Note:** Ok, so from here we detach from the movie plot just a little bit to focus on what our hero is doing. The action in the coming chapters takes place between "Empire Strikes Back" and leading up to and into "Return of the Jedi". There have also been some questions as to where Evelyn is during this time. We won't see the good professor for a couple of more chapters but don't worry, it all ties in. Just be patient with moi and thou shalt see!

I had to do some research to find out what happened between the movies. You know, the stories they don't tell you. I had to rewrite the beginning of this chapter four times because I kept changing my mind! Credit wise...the secret code is a twisted version of the one used by the Delta Knights in a B Film called "Quest of the Delta Knights" (_Mystery Science Theater 3000_ did a great job with it several years ago). See if you can guess where I lifted the story of The Red Windmill and twisted it to my own evil purposes...

* * *

Chapter Fourteen: The Death Star and the Dance Hall 

Dear Diary,

I know it's been a long while since I've written in you, several months at least. I have been busy trying to gather some information for the Rebellion and nothing has come up. It's very difficult to bide my time and wait. Waiting is something that I've never been good at. My time hasn't been wasted, though. I spent a couple of weeks messing around with my Stormtrooper helmet and modified it so that the pickup range is boosted three times over. I can pick up conversations through just about anything but blast doors. It's really cool, but for a long time I didn't hear anything special except that Major Quentin's girlfriend was cheating on him again.

But at last, my persistence has paid off. I've found something big. REALLY BIG. Last night I was on duty and I accompanied Lord Vader to one of the conference rooms. My cohort and I took up our usual positions on guard outside the door. Pretty soon a small assembly of admirals and high ranking officials came in. The only one missing was Moff Jerjerrod and Emperor Palpatine himself, but then he usually didn't attend these things anyway. This whole gathering was weird enough in itself because all the Moffs and Super Cool Moffs and High Muckamuck Grand Pooba Moffs of the Empire don't usually come together in one place unless whatever's being said is too delicate to be transmitted by the usual communications. The chances of the information getting intercepted by the wrong people, like the Rebels, are too great a risk. Whatever was going to be said was meant to stay in that room. I made sure to listen in very closely.

I heard a lot of side conversations, the squeaking of chairs, and the rustle of uniforms until it suddenly died down. Someone was obviously about to speak.

"Construction of the new Death Star at Endor is not proceeding according to plan," I heard Lord Vader's distinctive voice say. Another Death Star! Surely not...

"Moff Jerjerrod is plagued with problems." So that's where Jerjerrod was.

There was a slight murmur among the group. "Perhaps he needs more men. I would gladly assist..." someone said but Vader cut him off.

"No, Admiral Wrighten. Moff Jerjerrod has plenty of men to complete his task." There was a pause and he must have keyed up a holovid because there was a small gasp.

"It's only _half_ done?" someone said incredulously.

"Slightly more than half, but still not on schedule. You can see why the Emperor is not pleased. And your offer is duly noted, Admiral, but I need all of you to continue your runs and searches for the Alliance. Our troops are stretched thin enough without having to contribute more men to this project. I will be traveling to the Death Star personally ahead of the Emperor to...lend some motivation to Moff Jerjerrod."

Even I shuddered at that one and briefly felt sorry for the Moff. Briefly.

"The Emperor is going to the Death Star?"

"Yes," confirmed Vader. "He will personally oversee the final stages of construction. The shield generator on the moon is working efficiently to guard the Death Star against any sabotage the Rebellion has planned." There was a pause. "We have kept this information successfully secure. The only people with copies of these plans are the Emperor, myself, and Captain Sivar, commander of the _Suprosa._ Let us keep it that way."

There was a murmured agreement. "You are dismissed. I will contact you when I reach the Death Star." After a round of, "Yes, Lord Vader" I heard chairs scraping as they all arose. I stiffened to attention as the doors opened and they all proceeded out. A moment later, Vader came out and we immediately fell into escort position behind him.

We marched on silently for a few moments. My mind was whirling with what I'd just heard. Somehow I had to let the Rebellion know...

"Your mind is not on your work, Sergeant," Lord Vader said suddenly. He had turned his head slightly and was looking back at me. "I sense that something is troubling you." Great. Usually I'm very guarded around Vader because he can easily read your emotions and even your thoughts if you're not careful. I didn't want to give him any reasons to suspect me.

I reigned in my emotions. "I apologize, my lord. There are many things that I've been thinking about lately," I said neutrally

"Your job is not to think, Sergeant, but merely to follow my orders. Is that clear?" Well, of course. I was a good little Stormtrooper wasn't I? I'm not supposed to think for myself.

"Yes, my lord," I answered. He turned back and we continued on.

I got off duty shortly after that and came back here, to my quarters, to think. How am I supposed to contact the Rebellion? Supposedly we've got some R&R coming up tomorrow on Embree. Making contacts wasn't my job but I did know a few places where there was a good chunk of people sympathetic to the Alliance. Embree is one of them. The only problem is that I'm not sure _how_ to contact them.

Dear Diary,

I'm on a three day pass down on Embree. This being an Imperial world I don't have to wear my uniform. It actually feels odd not having to walk around planet side with my armor on. Yikes. I've been in the Empire too long!

I didn't find anything today. I have to be extremely cautious about who I talk to, because should someone from the Empire overhear I'm as good as dead. I've been hanging out at some of the dingier local cantinas and dance halls. They're public places but also easy to get lost in and that's usually where contacts choose to do their business. I gave up late in the day and right now I'm feeling pretty tipsy after having ordered drinks from at least ten establishments. Urrrrrgh....I'm going to bed.

Dear Diary,

Day Two and still nothing, though I almost get conned into a performance of _Uhl Eharl Khoehng_ (The Trickster King). That's one of the greatest Corellian tragedies ever written! The tickets were dirt cheap, but getting these plans to the Rebellion is far more important than a play about magical forests and barricaded castles and setting trees on fire. Still...wish I could have seen it.

I'm sure it's much better than that awful play I saw last year, _Les Miseralderaan_. I mean, how freakin' tragic can you get? No one wants to remember how Alderaan got destroyed and the plot is totally messed up. All of Act Three concentrates on the "barricades" behind Alderaan (there WEREN'T any barricades on Alderaan) and how the Imperials are trying to overrun it and how the main character betrays the antagonist who's working for the Imperials, who gets shot. And how the main character's "daughter" is in love with a young Rebel but her friend who was raised as a thief in the underground of Corellia is also in love with him and SHE gets shot. And then the main character gets shot and well, EVERYBODY dies among a lot of tragic singing and blaster fire. In the end, the Death Star destroys everyone. It's a big hit with the Empire and I heard Emperor Palpatine himself sat through twelve consecutive performances.

Personally, I think whoever wrote that piece of bantha dung needs to be shot.

Oh yeah...plans. Must get plans to Rebels. First...must sleep.

Dear Diary,

Success! And in the nick of time, too, since this is our last day of leave. I tried one last ditch effort in a remote cantina on the outskirts of Embree City. I walked in, sat down, and grudgingly ordered a drink (I've spent most of this month's wages in three days on drinks alone). In the corner sat a small group of Bothans which immediately caught my attention. Bothans are sympathetic to the Alliance, but they don't really fight the battles. What they're well known for is spying and conveying information. The only problem is that there are over six hundred Bothan clans and not all of them run information. Well...one way to find out.

I waited for one of the Bothans to come up to the bar to order another drink. I slid over to make room and waited for him to order. Picking my drink up, I pretended to take a sip and muttered in Basic, "Have you seen the purple grasses blowing on the plains?"

He looked over at me, surprise registering on his furry little face. There was a pause, then he replied quietly, "Yes, and I've heard of the great temples, too."

It was my turn. "Have you heard about the great trees with their fruits?"

He nodded and turned back to the bar. "Indeed, human stranger, I have. I've also heard about the ice demons that hide in the snow."

One more to go. I took a deep breath and hoped my information was still current. "Then you definitely should see the Eyrie."

This is a secret code used to identify other Rebels. I've never used it but Evelyn taught it to me. You list the locations of some of the old Rebel bases in order by features of the planets they're hidden on. Purple grasses refer to Dantooine, the temples are Yavin, great trees is Thila, ice demons are the wampas on Hoth, and the Eyrie is Haven Base on Abra, where the Rebels should still be hiding (that's where the fleet was headed when they evacuated Hoth).

"Very well...you have information?" he said, keeping his voice low. It was my turn to nod. "Meet me in ten standard minutes at the Red Windmill." A bordello that was disguised as a dance hall? But of course...there were lots of private rooms there where no one could hear you talking...or doing other things, of course.

I nodded and he went back to his table, said something to his companions and left. I finished my drink and followed a few moments later. The Red Windmill is an infamous establishment in this part of the galaxy. It's well known for the tragic story of one of its most famous entertainers and courtesans, Nadine, a.k.a. The Glittering Diamond, and her love affair with Chris Hunn (a famous Jedi writer). But, that happened a long time ago. Now it's just a run down sort of place where business (of all sorts) is done.

I slipped in the front entrance and passed the large, hollow Bantha that was supposedly Nadine's personal room. It was awfully tacky, if you ask me. I went inside the dance hall proper where the courtesans made up of various alien races were doing their dancing and chatting up their clients. My Bothan friend was sitting in one of the many booths that line the walls of the establishment. As I made my way through the crowd I saw Major Quentin surrounded by at least four courtesans. Well, no wonder his girlfriend is cheating on him! He's cheating on her!

I slid into the booth and leveled my gaze at the Bothan, who was staring back. "Might I ask who you are?" he began.

"I'm a Rebel spy working from inside the Empire," I replied. "And you are?"

"Reekin. Is that all you're going to tell me?" he challenged. "I cannot know your name?"

"I prefer to remain anonymous," I answered, narrowing my eyes. "I assure you that this information is legitimate. If you need verification as to my person, you can check with Leia Organa herself and tell her that you received the information from Rogue Twelve."

His eyes widened slightly at the mention of my squadron code. From his expression I guessed that the Rogues have been busy lately. A small bubble of pride for my squadron welled up inside me. "I will verify your clearance before I pass this information," he agreed.

I nodded. "This information is of the utmost secrecy. The Empire is over halfway through the construction of a new Death Star at the moon of Endor. There is an energy shield located on the surface of the moon that is protecting the station during its construction. They've run into some snags and Darth Vader is heading there tomorrow to get everything back on track. The Emperor himself is going to the Death Star to oversee its final stages of construction. The plans for this station are located on the ship _Suprosa_ commanded by a Captain Sivar."

The Bothan listened intently and I could see he was carefully filing away my message. "The Alliance will benefit greatly from this information. Well done, Rogue Twelve," he said simply. "I will pass this to the Rebellion."

Well, that's that. I just hope that I can trust Reekin to get the information to the Rebellion. Tomorrow we leave for the Death Star and then we'll just have to wait and see what happens.


	15. Spray Paint and Promotions

Author's Note: K8t...Evelyn is fine! She'll be back, JUST NOT YET! Patience, my faithful reader.

* * *

Chapter 15: Spray paint and Promotions 

Dear Diary,

Bored. Bored bored bored. Bored as hell. There is absolutely NOTHING to do but stare out the window and watch them work on the Death Star (it is bigger than the first and a lot meaner looking, even though it's only half done) and march and march and march. Then have lunch. Then march some more. Then eat dinner and then listen to the rest of the 'troopers tell interesting, though often twisted and disgusting, stories about what they did at The Red Windmill (I had no idea that Twi'lek females could do that with their lekku...Major Quentin sure does get around!).

It's been like this for days. No one has done anything to relieve the tedium, even after someone spray-painted, "Palpatine and Vader wear pink lacy panties" on the wall of the starboard men's latrine. Vader is personally hunting for the culprit.

It's a good thing that I managed to convince the Dia Nogu that bright red spray paint makes a lovely appetizer! Just in case, I've decided to look for a transfer. The idea of having my esophagus crushed by the Dark Lord isn't particularly appealing.

Dear Diary,

I got a transfer! The elite Scout Troopers had an opening, but it's really hard to get into their ranks. You have to participate in three races in three days, one each day. The overall winner gets the coveted promotion. I decided to go for it. Granted, I'd never actually ridden a speeder bike but I figured that if I could pilot the University fighters and the snow speeders then it would be easy.

We raced down on the forest moon's surface and let me tell you...it was scary. The trees on Endor are HUGE and since I'd never handled the bikes before I wasn't too sure of what I was doing. The first race I won, though I really shouldn't have. I was actually losing until my opponent crashed into a tree and his speeder exploded. I finished the race and was pronounced the winner, which I protested. "But my opponent was killed!" I said, horrified.

"Yes, death is grounds for immediate disqualification," replied the Scout Trooper judge. "You win."

"But..."

"You WIN, Sergeant Dyson," the judge reiterated as he fingered the blaster hanging on his hip. "Any questions?"

Hey, who I was to argue? "No, sir."

"Good. See you tomorrow."

The next day's race went pretty well, considering that I'd only ridden that speeder bike once before. After a couple of minutes, though, I relaxed and laid on the speed. The thing practically flew itself and it was almost like an extension of my being. I used to get that feeling in my snow speeder and it's really weird. I crossed the finish line well ahead of my opponent.

The third race was almost as uneventful, except a damn Ewok decided to swing across on a vine RIGHT in front of my bike. I tried to dodge but he landed behind me and proceeded to cackle gleefully, "YUB YUB!!!!"

"Get off!" I hollered at my unexpected passenger. The extra weight was going to slow me down. I also knew that if I crossed the finish line with an Ewok on the back of my speeder, two things would happen. First, I'd never hear the end of it. Second, the little guy would be killed on the spot. The Imperials really don't like the Endorian natives, no matter how cute and fuzzy they are (much cuter than Jawas). I tried yelling at him some more, but he just giggled so I gripped the bike tightly and executed a quick roll above some soft bushes. With a high pitched yell the little beast fell off and the last thing I heard from him can only be assumed to be the Ewok version of cursing.

Despite my furry hitchhiker I relaxed and let the speeder do the work, just guiding it by intuition. I crossed the finish line first by only a few meters and won the coveted promotion. HA! Stick that in your pink panties, Vader!

Dear Diary,

Being a Scout Trooper is just as boring, believe it or not. I've been assigned to guard the rear entrance bunker to the Shield Generator. Granted, my uniform is a lot different and I get to stare at trees instead of cold Super Star Destroyer walls, but that's about the only benefits. Oh yeah, and I get to ride the speeder bike and yell at Ewoks. Whoopee.

I wonder if Reekin managed to get the information to the Rebellion or not? It's been well over a month since I passed it to him on Embree. I hope it got through; otherwise the galaxy is going to be a much more dangerous place once they're done constructing the Death Star.

Wonder if I could spray-paint something derogatory about Vader on the bunker walls? On second thought, forget it. It's too easy to trace it back to me this time and there's no Dia Nogu down here to feed the evidence to.


	16. Of Rebels and Revels

**Author's Note:** Sorry about the delay in chapters. I've taken on a new full time job at an electronics store in the DVD department and don't have as much time to write. On the other hand, a lot of my co-workers are Star Wars fans so it's a lot of fun talking to all of them. Don't worry, this isn't the end. There's one more chapter after dis one. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 16: Of Rebels and Revels 

Dear Diary,

Well, the damnedest thing happened this afternoon while I was on duty with four other Scout Troopers guarding the "super secret" back entrance to the shield generator. All of a sudden one of those little furry Ewoks comes out of nowhere and jumps on MY speeder bike and takes off into the forest. I was pretty sure it was the one who'd been freeloading on the back during the race. I guess he got addicted or something and decided to take it out for a spin. It was all I could do to not die laughing as my three compatriots jumped onto their bikes and took off after him, leaving me all alone.

I was staring after them and chuckling when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned my head quickly and caught a glimpse of Han Solo running off behind the bunker. "HEY!" I called and chased after him. As I turned the corner, I found myself staring down the guns of a small band of Rebels in camouflage and Han was just grinning ear to ear like he'd made the Kessel Run in less than twelve parsecs or something. Dork.

I raised my hands in the air. "Don't shoot!" I said, my voice sounding all messed up by the helmet's microphone. "I'm one of you!"

Han's grin vanished to be replaced by one of confusion. "What?" he asked.

"Permission to remove my helmet, sir," I asked.

He just shrugged. "Sure...go ahead, but do it slowly."

I slowly took my helmet off and Han's facial expression changed yet again. He looked momentarily surprised and then said, "Dyson?! Is that you?!"

"Yep!" I replied, grinning. "I was wondering when you guys were going to get here!"

Han looked back at small band of Rebels. "Lower your blasters, guys. This 'trooper is one of us."

Princess Leia came forward and shook my hand. "Lieutenant Dyson, it's great to see you again!"

"Thank you, your highness. Are you trying to get into the bunker?"

But before she could answer I heard a very familiar voice pipe up, "Eugene Dyson!"

I looked over at the Rebel group and at the very back was Evelyn! My heart skipped several beats and I vaulted over a couple of rocks and bushes. "Commander Sinclair!" I exclaimed. And before I could think properly, I swept her up into my arms and gave her a huge kiss. It only occurred to me after about fifteen seconds that maybe that wasn't the appropriate thing to do because, after all, I didn't know if she felt the same way about me.

There was dead silence from the Rebels as I let her go. She looked more than a little shocked and confused, but sort of half-smiled and said, "Well...I guess you missed me more than I thought." The group broke out in peals of laughter and I turned several shades of red.

"As wonderful as this reunion is," Princess Leia said, "we've still got to get that bunker destroyed. The fighters will be here any minute."

Han went over to the keypad by the door and tapped in some kind of code. I stripped off the rest of my armor so I was just wearing my black jumpsuit that's worn under the uniform. Han had the door open in no time and all of us, except for one guard, snuck inside the bunker, captured the officers on duty, and begin setting charges. Evelyn filled me in as we worked. She told me that the Rebels had received a message about the second Death Star, actually from TWO sources, both relayed to the Bothans. Wedge and Luke and the rest of the Rogues had flown a mission with the Bothans to capture the information off the _Suprosa_. A lot of Bothans died in that mission and there had been another Imperial battle afterwards, but eventually the info on the Death Star was captured. Something really bugged me about them receiving the information from two sources. Obviously I was one source but who was the other? Was there another Rebel spy working undercover in the Empire?

Unfortunately, I didn't get a chance to ponder that question because just then a bunch of troopers came barging in and we were all captured. "Freeze, you Rebel Scum!" Boy, did the commander look surprised when he saw me. "DYSON?!" he asked incredulously. "What do you think you're doing helping the Rebel Scum?"

Well, I figured I was going to die anyway so I might as well go out laughing. "I happen to be Rebel Scum myself, sir. I find that they're a lot more companionable than the Empire. And their leaders don't flounce around in pink lacy underwear."

The commander just growled, "Lord Vader will personally handle your execution, traitor."

I just shrugged and we were all marched back down the hall towards the exit. As we walked, Han muttered to me, "What's the deal about their leaders wearing pink lacy underwear?"

"I'll tell you later," I muttered back. Han looked over at Leia and smirked a little.

I could tell what he was thinking.

When we went outside the entire area was filled with AT-ST walkers and Stormtroopers. WHAT THE...?! It was a trap! How come I hadn't been told?! Just then Threepio stuck his head up from the bushes and called out, "Hello! I say, over there! Were you looking for me?"

And...that's basically when all hell broke loose because a band of Ewoks decided to attack the Empire. I found a new respect for those little furry guys. They let loose with rocks, tree trunks, vines, just about anything you could find in the forest to beat the living crap out of the Imperials. It was really funny to watch. I grabbed Evelyn and we dived under a bush. "Well, isn't this romantic?" she said sarcastically as I grabbed a blaster off a fallen Stormtrooper.

"Isn't it though?" I shot back and tossed her a rifle. She smirked at me and started shooting at anything wearing white plasticeen body armor. Man, she's sexy when she's in the middle of a battle!

As I was hiding in the bushes and playing sniper I saw that Han and Leia had made their way over to the bunker. They were trying to get the blast doors open again. Artoo trundled his way over and started to try but he was hit with blaster fire and he was fried. I mean, FRIED. There were appendages sticking out everywhere and it wasn't pretty. I spotted Han trying to hotwire the doors but he only managed to close a second set of blast doors. I turned away to shoot at a couple more guys lurking behind some boulders and I heard Evelyn gasp. "Are you ok?" I called, squeezing off a couple of rounds at them. Success!

"I'm fine, but Leia's been hit!"

I craned my head backwards and could see that the princess was clutching her shoulder. Two troopers ran up to them and Evelyn raised her blaster to dispose of them, but Leia got there first. Obviously she wasn't hurt that bad! I started to cheer, but just then one of the walkers came directly up towards the bunker and it didn't look good. The top hatch flipped open and Chewbacca appeared, roaring happily. Han jumped up and started to tell Chewie to come down, but then changed his mind.

Evelyn and I came out of the bushes with the rest of the Rebels. "I've got an idea," Han said as we approached the bunker. "Everyone stand ready. I'm going to have a little conversation with the Empire," Han said and Chewie helped him climb up into the walker. A few moments later, he reappeared and said, "I've requested reinforcements. When the troops appear we'll take them hostage and blow this place sky high."

We got into position and the Ewoks climbed onto the roof of the bunker. A couple of minutes later a small Imperial squadron arrived and we quickly took them captive. Han and Chewie raced inside and set the charges. They were back only minutes later with a huge explosion right on their heels. The shield generator was blown and, as I found out later, that's when the fleet moved in.

Evelyn came over to me. "I never thought I'd see you again," she said simply as her eyes scanned the skies. "I figured you were dead when you weren't at the rendezvous point after we escaped from Hoth. When Luke and Leia arrived at the fleet she told me that she'd spoken with you at Cloud City and that you were back in the Empire but working undercover as a Rebel spy. "

"It's true," I replied. "And it was very lonely. There were many times when my life was in danger. I thought about you the entire time and how much I missed you." It wasn't mushy or anything, just the plain truth.

Just then the sky was lit up by a brilliant explosion: the Death Star. We all cheered long and loud. For the first time in many years I was able to breathe a sigh of relief. I was back with my friends and the woman I loved and the galaxy was safe again.

Oops...gotta go, diary. The Ewoks are throwing a big shebang tonight and everyone's invited!


	17. Yub Yub for the Future!

**Author's Note:** She's finished! YAY! Let me know if you like. I don't know...maybe I'll write a sequel. Maybe I won't. I've got another story in the planning stages, but it's a lot more serious and a lot different. I'm kind of stretching my literary wings here and going in every direction. Hope you enjoyed _Diaries of a Rebellious Stormtrooper_! :-D

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Chapter 17: Yub Yub for the Future! 

Dear Diary,

The Ewok's party was just awesome. I can't actually remember the last time I went to a real party. I think it was way back in my university days. Come to think of it...it was the New Year's Fete when the lovely woman watching me writing this down was doing the Bantha Shuffle with a lampshade on her head. OW! Thanks, Commander.

I got to the party pretty early while the sun was still low in the sky. The Ewoks had gone all out in their own little primitive way. There was lots of food and music and everyone was in a terrific mood. In fact, ours was one of several celebrations reputed to be going on around the galaxy. As soon as the Death Star exploded the Rebels sent the word out to the Core planets and I'm sure they're all celebrating there, too.

Closer to dusk we let off some fireworks and I whooped and cheered at the sight of the X-wings doing victory runs through the skies. Shortly after that the squadron landed nearby and I wandered over to meet them. It was Rogue Squadron! My old buddy Wedge was just jumping down from his ship as I came over. "Eugene!" he exclaimed in surprise. "You're alive? I thought you were dead!" He gave me a bear hug.

"Sure am, Wedge," I replied and waved to the other Rogues, some of whom I knew and some whom I didn't. "Hi, Janson!" I called at Wes.

"DUDE!" he hollered at me. "You're still around?! You are so hard to kill off!"

Wedge and I busted up laughing. "You still want to fly with us?" Wedge asked as we headed back to the party behind the others. "We lost some pilots in the battle," he said sorrowfully. "We could use a good pilot like you."

"I don't know," I replied. "I'm not sure what I'm going to be doing now that the Empire's fallen. I don't know if I'll go back to Microastronomy or flying. I guess I'll have to see where the Alliance needs me."

He nodded. "Well, the offer stands open," he said. "Just let me know." By that time we'd reached the party and just about everyone was there, except Luke. The Ewoks had started up some kind of crazy victory song. I didn't understand a word of it, but it was really energetic and had the repeating phrase "Yub Yub." That's what the little Ewok who'd jumped on the back of my speeder had yelled. Huh...I wandered over to Threepio. "Hey, Threepio," I said. "What does 'yub yub' mean?"

Threepio replied, "The repetitious phrase 'yub yub' in the Ewok dialect does not have a direct translation, Master Dyson. It is a sort of exclamation expressing great joy or excitement. The closest equivalent in Basic would be 'hooray' or, please forgive the vernacular, 'whoopee'".

I grinned. "That makes sense," I said. "Thanks, Threepio."

He bowed slightly, obviously pleased that someone had utilized his translation programming for once. "You are most welcome, sir."

I walked over to where Han was. He was trying to peel a very excited Ewok off his leg without much success. "Hey, Eugene, can you help me?" he asked. "This little guy attached himself ten minutes ago and now he won't get off!"

"Um...ok....yub yub!" I hollered at the Ewok.

"YUB YUB!" it bellowed back and left Han's leg only to head for mine. I stepped aside and it crashed into a table filled with Stormtrooper helmets that were serving as half trophies of war and half musical instrument. "Oops, sorry!" I said and turned to Han. "Where's Luke?" I asked. It had occurred to me that I hadn't seen him at all during the battle. "Didn't he come with you guys or did he fly in the battle?"

He looked grim. "Luke came with us on the strike team, but he had to take care of some unpleasant business with Vader," he replied. "I'm sure he'll be here soon. Even Luke wouldn't miss a shindig like this."

"What the heck is Vader's fascination with Luke, anyway?" I asked, confused. "I swear, ever since Yavin he's been chasing him all over the damn galaxy and back."

"Vader is Luke's father," Han answered. "And Leia's his sister."

"And I'm Chewie's great-uncle," I retorted.

There was a familiar bellowing sound behind me and suddenly two hairy arms appeared and I found myself hanging upside-down and staring into a Wookie face. "Hiya, Chewbacca!" I said. Chewie roared again and Han translated. "He says you can't be his great-uncle because his great-uncle is a lot taller and hairier and has a flatulence problem."

"You haven't smelled me after a plate of greasy nerfburgers," I replied. Chewie chuffed a laugh and barked something to Han.

"He says you owe him a game of Sabaac," Han chuckled.

I looked at the Wookie. "Now way," I replied. "Everything I own is on one of those Star Destroyers, except for my diary."

Chewie barked something else. "He says he'll postpone the game until you're back on your feet."

"That's mighty nice of him," I replied as Chewie turned me right-side up and set me down, bellowing.

"You're back on your feet," Han translated.

"Har har, very funny," I told the amused Wookie. "Now if you'll excuse me, there's a lady that I must attend to."

Evelyn had been standing off to the side and watching the whole exchange with a look of amusement on her face. "Playing with Wookies?" she asked as I came over to her, trying to straighten my messed up hair. We headed off to a quieter and secluded part of the Ewok's celebration.

"Why not?" I replied. "They make great friends as long as you stay on their good side."

She chuckled and then her face turned more somber. "Eugene, about that kiss earlier..."

I turned a little red and raised my hand to stop her. "I realize that was completely out-of-line and I'm really sorry," I apologized. "It happened on impulse, but I promise you that it won't ever happen again." I looked away, embarrassed.

"Apology accepted...but who says I was asking you for one?"

I turned back around, my jaw hitting the floor. "Eugene, from the moment your lips touched mine I knew that you missed me just as much as I missed you and that our feelings were mutual."

"Then...you do love me?" I asked, shocked.

She smiled and moved closer, wrapping her arms around me. "Oh yes," she murmured. "And now that the Empire is gone we don't have to worry about running or hiding from them anymore. Our lives are going to a lot better now and personally I'd like nothing more than to share my life with you."

"I'd like that, too," I replied as I kissed her.

A couple of moments later I heard someone clearing their throat and looked up to see Luke standing there, grinning from ear to ear. "I heard you were around, Eugene," he said. "I came looking for you. Sorry if I interrupted..."

"It's alright, Luke," Evelyn answered as she pulled out of my arms but slid her hand into mine. "We should probably be getting back to the celebration."

Luke and I exchanged a slap on the back and together we all walked back to the party and into our futures.


End file.
